


One of Those Days

by Bluewolf458



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Sentinel Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 07:49:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15020012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Bluewolf458
Summary: Blair has had 'one of those days' and sets out to drown his sorrows





	One of Those Days

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2918 sentinel bingo prompt in vino veritas/drunk
> 
> Although I've marked it as M/M, it's really only very pre-slash

One of Those Days

by Bluewolf

Blair - for once - was home first.

He had debated with himself over going to the PD after he left Rainier, but he knew Jim had intended to spend the day going over reports, many of them contradictory, concerning a robbery in one of Cascade's banks. The only thing that was certain was that four men had been involved. He had already been through the reports once, and found nothing that could help him track down the thieves.

There was nothing Blair could contribute. He had read the reports first time around, and could see nothing that would help them find the gang.

In any case, he had had a frustrating day at Rainier, and all he wanted to do was get home, prepare a meal that could be kept simmering until Jim got home - and have a stiff double Bushmills. No - make that a triple.

So he cooked the meal, turned the heat low so that it would keep warm, then went in search of their bottle of Bushmills.

He poured himself a very stiff drink, added a little water, took one of his favorite books from the shelf, and sat reading, sipping steadily at his drink.

Finishing it, he remembered to check the simmering pot, then went back and poured himself another triple...

 

***

 

Jim was a little late getting home, but not by much.

When he opened the door, the first thing he became aware of was the smell of whiskey.

"Chief?"

"Oh... Hi, Jim." Blair's voice was ever-so-slightly slurred.

Jim looked at the bottle on the table as he sat beside Blair. "You don't usually indulge in the Bushmills?"

"I know, but... 's been one of those days... Everything that could go wrong, did. First lecture of the day, cut short when one of the students collapsed. By the time an ambulance got there, he'd stopped breathing. Had to do CPR. But it wasn' any use - the EMTs carried on with it, but the hospital declared him DOA. Dunno why, yet. Next lecture, the clerical staff'd photocopied the wrong pop quiz for me - it was on somethin' one of the other TAs had done, but I hadn't. They hadn' even done both but given us the wrong ones, 'n they were too busy to do mine just then. And 'cause part of mine involved identifyin' artifacts that were drawn on the paper, I couldn' give it verbally, so I had to scrabble together a lecture I hadn' meant to give 'em till next week. Knew the material, but didn' have any visual aids... An' then one o' the football jocks complained 'bout some reading I gave 'em for next week... Said he didn' have time... but I know they don' train on a Sunday, 'n he wasn' happy when I tol' him t' do it then..." He reached for his glass and took another swallow. "I just want... want to drown the memory of the day."

Jim slid the nearly-empty bottle of whiskey to one side. "Getting drunk... it doesn't really help."

"An'... I'm in love and I can't say anything... "

"Why not? You think she's not interested?" Jim managed to keep his voice sympathetic.

"He's straight... "

Jim swallowed. _He._ So Blair was... not gay, he'd been out with too many girls for that, but bi? "His loss, if you think he's not interested."

"You were married, Jim."

It took a second for the penny to drop. "Me? he asked gently.

Blair nodded, then stiffened, realizing he had betrayed himself. "I'll... 'M too drunk to drive... If you let me stay till tomorrow, I'll get out of your hair then."

"Why should you?" Jim asked. He grinned. "Let's have dinner - it smells really good - and then I'll show you why you don't need to leave - not tomorrow, not ever."

"Not... ever?"

"Not ever." He ruffled Blair's hair and moved to the kitchen, taking the nearly-empty bottle of Bushmills with him. A couple of minutes later, he carried over two filled plates. They ate, Jim took the plates to the sink and ran water over them, saying, "We can wash them properly in the morning,"  then he went back, took Blair's hand, and led him towards the stairs.


End file.
